Chapter 10
Adrien
D iane knows better than to interrupt me during meetings.
She has been working with me long enough to grasp that an interruption signifies someone is in trouble—or will be soon. This only happened once before, when our delivery to the Italian Mob was hijacked, resulting in millions of dollars of missing firearms and an enraged mafia boss.
Today, a sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach as Diane strides into the room with a determined expression on her face. She shuts the door behind her and stands before me, arms crossed.
This must be important.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says as I hit the mute button, “but I believe you’ll want to hear this.”
I turn away from my monitors and give her my full attention.
“What is it?”
“Tiffany Carter arrived fifteen minutes ago. She insists on meeting with you and says it’s urgent.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Tiffany? Here? A mix of emotions swirls through me—surprise, curiosity, and foolish hope.
I am, in fact, wrapped around her little finger, even if she is oblivious to it.
“Tiffany Carter?” I ask, aware of the expectant faces on my screen. “Is she with anyone?”
Diane gives me a knowing look. “No, she’s alone.”
I run my hand through my hair and frown. I went to great lengths to see her, only to be told to leave her alone. And now, a few days later, she wants to meet with me? Tiffany’s actions make little sense.
I hesitate, my fingers drumming on the polished surface of my desk. Part of me wants to maintain the distance Tiffany herself had insisted upon. But another part, a part I thought I’d silenced, yearns to see her.
Turning back to the screen, I unmute my microphone and address my colleagues. “Gentlemen, I apologize, but an urgent matter has come up. Can we reconvene in a bit?”
As they murmur their agreements, I cut the connection and turn to Diane. “Connect her through to my office. I’ll hear what she has to say.”
I don’t need to see her again; the night at the gala was all my self-control could handle. This time, I need to approach her with caution.
As she turns to leave, I call out, “And Diane? Hold all my other calls.”
Diane nods and leaves the room. Waiting for her to connect the call, I sit back in my chair, a weird sense of anxiety building in my chest.
It’s almost like I’m nervous, which is absurd considering who I am and what I do for a living.
The intercom buzzes, and Tiffany’s voice fills the room, strained and breathless. “Adrien?”
Fuck.
Her sweet, slightly raspy voice brings an unexpected wave of longing to my chest. I dream about her voice, her smell, and her touch, and right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to lay eyes on her again.
My heart pounds in my chest like a war drum.
“I thought you asked me to stay away from you?” I keep my voice level. “Why are you here?”
She’s silent for a moment, and I almost wonder if she’s going to hang up. But then she speaks, and her voice is steadier. “I’m here to ask for help.”
“Help?” I sit up straighter. “What kind of help?”
Silence.
“Tiffany?”
“Some of my uncle’s business partners reached out to me today. He promised to supply them with certain goods, but he hasn’t followed through.”
I close my eyes, my mind racing. The rational businessman in me sounds warning bells. Getting involved could jeopardize everything I’ve built. But despite everything, despite her pushing me away, I wouldn’t do for Tiffany.
I’m potentially stepping into a minefield, but for her, I’m willing to take the risk. That familiar tug in my chest, the one that always seems to lead me back to her, grows stronger.
“I will ask my assistant to come and bring you up to my office. I think it would be better to discuss this in person.”
As soon as Tiffany steps into my office, I can’t help but notice her disheveled state. Dried blood smears her face, and scratches mar her usually flawless skin.
It looks like she’d been through hell and back.
“Close the door,” I instruct Diane. “If someone comes looking for me, say that I’m not available and get a doctor immediately.”
“No need for a doctor,” Tiffany interjects. “Please.”
She looks away, embarrassed, and I concede. “No doctor for now, thank you, Diane. Cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon. No calls, no interruptions. Understood?”
Diane nods, her gaze lingering on Tiffany before she closes the door behind her.
I approach Tiffany cautiously, scanning for any injuries on her body.
“Tiffany,” I say, my voice soft. “What happened?”
Slowly and carefully, as if testing the waters, Tiffany reaches out to touch my face, lightly tracing her fingertips over my cheekbone. I shut my eyes, savoring the feeling of her skin against mine.
Tiffany’s lips quiver as she bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes pleading with me. “Can I... can I hug you?” Her voice is shaky and uncertain.
At a loss for words, I simply open my arms. She steps into my embrace, her body trembling against mine. My arms wrap around her, pulling her close as if to shield her from the world.
Her scent fills my senses, a combination of lavender and vanilla that instantly calms me. As we stand there in a gentle embrace, her tension dissipates, and she relaxes in my arms.
Taking a moment to assess her disheveled appearance, I absentmindedly run my fingers through her hair, trying to tame it as I whisper soothing words in her ear. A mix of blood and sweat mats her soft curls.
“We’ll talk about what happened.” I pull back so I can see her face. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up and see if there’s anything we can do for your injuries.”
Tiffany nods. She looks almost vulnerable as she reaches up to wipe away her tears.
I guide her over to my couch and help her sit down. I grab a damp cloth and wipe away the blood and grime from her face, being gentle with her scratches. She winces at the touch of the cloth, but she doesn’t pull away.
After cleaning her up, I examine her injuries, noting that they are superficial but still in need of attention. I fetch a first aid kit from my bathroom and sanitize her wounds, my hands steady. I’ve always been good at damage control, but this feels more intimate than anything I’ve ever done before.
While I work, Tiffany watches me intently. There’s a mix of longing and trust in her gaze that sends a spark of awareness through me. I try to push it aside and focus on my task, but the tension in the room is palpable; our bodies close, but not quite touching.
I finish applying the dressing on her scratches, securing them with medical tape.
“The scratches will heal and shouldn’t leave any scars. Just make sure you keep them clean and dry.”
Tiffany nods, her gaze still locked onto mine. “How have you been?”
I chuckle. “I’m afraid that’s my question to ask. I’ve been...” I pause, searching for the right words. “I’ve been trying to keep my distance.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I did not intend to cause you any pain. I was just...” she trails off.
“Just what?”
Tiffany takes a deep breath. “I missed you,” she admits. “And I panicked. And you were the one person I wanted to see.”
I take a step back, needing a moment to gather my thoughts. “I’ll get you some water.”
Her eyes follow me as I walk away.
This push and pull is going to kill me , I think as I pour water into a glass.
As I walk back into the room, Tiffany says, “Adrien, you don’t have to do this for me. I understand you’re busy, and you’ve made it clear that you want nothing to do with me.”
“I never said that,” I correct her, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table. I sit down next to her, our legs touching briefly before I pull away.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I take a deep breath and lean back against the couch, trying to sort out my thoughts.
First, I need to know what happened to Tiffany and why she needed to reach out to me. Then, we can talk about feelings.
“Were your guards with you?” I motion toward the scratches on her face.
“No, I was alone.”
Frustration builds up inside of me as I stand and pace around the room. “Why on earth would you do that? Do you realize the kind of people your uncle was involved with? Do you want to get yourself killed?”
I’ve asked Luis to lay low, to keep an eye on her. But she’s being reckless. It’s unbelievable that she would endanger herself like that.
Despite being on the verge of a breakdown just five minutes ago, Tiffany keeps her voice calm and steady. “I was alone because you had my driver kidnapped and traumatized. When I returned home, I gave him three months off to recover. I also figured that my uncle’s business partners would be perceptive enough not to harm me if they wanted something. And it turns out I was right.”
I shake my head, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. “Then I don’t know why you came to me. I’m glad you’re alright, but there’s nothing I can do for you if you continue putting yourself in danger like this. I can’t protect you from everything, Tiffany.”
“I don’t expect you to. I just need your help to figure out what my uncle has promised to those people and what they might be planning to do next. You have connections and resources that I don’t. Please, Adrien, I need your help.”
My eyes narrow. “Two days ago, you told me to leave you alone. Why should I help you now, angel? For your pretty face?”
“I need you.” Desperation creeps into her voice. “Is that not enough for you?”
“Your Prince Charming is the one who should be protecting you, not me. Why don’t you turn to him for help?”
Tiffany’s lips curl into a humorless smile. “You made me feel safe. Treasured. I’m afraid, and you’re the only one who can bring me that sense of security again. I can’t ask for help from someone who doesn’t even know me, who won’t ever understand me.”
A surge of anger and possessiveness washes over me, but there is also a hint of satisfaction. At least she acknowledges that I make her feel safe. I struggle to keep my composure in the face of such a confession from her.
My voice comes out rough as I ask, “What’s in it for me?”
“My gratitude. You owe me anyway. I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”
“Me?”
“You think I don’t know about Dean? His death?”
Tiffany’s words hang in the air like a guillotine, sharp and heavy. The room feels colder suddenly, the shadows stretching longer across the walls.
She knows.
Tiffany knows I’m responsible for her uncle’s death.
“You think I had something to do with Dean’s death?” I ask, my voice low and measured, though my pulse is racing. I take a step closer to her, towering over her as she sits on the couch. Her chin lifts, refusing to back down.
“I know you did.”
Her expression is unreadable—not angry, not hurt, just… waiting. Waiting for me to confirm what she already knows.
“How long have you known?”
“I started piecing it together after Dean’s death. The timing was too convenient. The way you stepped in, the way you protected me. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”
“It doesn’t bother you? That I killed your uncle?”
She is quiet for a long moment, her gaze fixed on some distant point. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft but steady. “It did bother me. At least until I found documents in Dean’s office. My parents’ car accident… it wasn’t an accident. He orchestrated it. He had their car sabotaged because they were planning to expose him. They knew about his dealings, about the trafficking, the corruption. They were going to bring him down, and he couldn’t let that happen. And then all the other lives he destroyed, the families he ruined… I’ve spent so long trying to separate the man I knew as my uncle from the monster he really was. But when I found those papers, it became clear. He wasn’t just a man with flaws. He was evil. And if I’m honest… I think I hate him more than you ever did. He took everything from me—my parents, my sense of security, even the illusion that our family was something pure. You just… finished what he started.”
Her calm acceptance unnerves me. I expected tears, accusations, maybe even a slap across the face. But this… this quiet understanding is worse. It makes me feel exposed, like she’s peeled back layers of my carefully constructed armor and seen the ugliness beneath.
“And you are here now,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine, raw and unguarded. “Yes. I’m here now. Because despite everything, I trust you more than anyone else right now. Because I know you wouldn’t let anything happen to me. And because... because I think you owe me this.”
“I’m not a good man, Tiffany. You know that. I’ll use this chance to win you back. You’re stepping into the lion’s den, and I won’t pretend to be anything other than who I am.”
She smiles. “I’m counting on it.”
My breath hitches.
“Fine,” I say finally, my voice rough. “I’ll help you. But no more reckless decisions. No more wandering around without protection. If you’re going to trust me, then trust me fully. That means no secrets, no half-truths. You tell me everything, and I’ll do the same.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.” I stand up, already formulating a plan. “First things first, do you have access to your uncle’s files or emails—anything that might reveal what he promised them?”
“I have boxes of his papers at my apartment,” Tiffany says. “But I haven’t had a chance to go through them all yet.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start. My security personnel will take you to your place to gather the papers and then bring you back to my penthouse. While I finish up the upcoming meeting, you will get to a safe place, have a shower, and change into clean clothes. I’ll meet you there, and we will discuss this further.”
“That safe space is your evil lair?”
“Believe me, angel. It’s the safest place you can be right now. No one can touch you there.”
Tiffany studies my face for a moment before standing up. She closes the distance between us and presses her lips against my cheek.
“Thank you, Adrien.”
Her lips linger for a beat longer than necessary, the warmth of her breath brushing against my skin. My heart is racing with a jumble of emotions—protectiveness, desire, and yearning. She knows what I’ve done. She knows the darkness I carry, and yet she’s here, leaning into me with a trust that feels both fragile and unshakable. I want to pull her closer, to hold her against me and promise her I’ll keep her safe no matter what. But I don’t. I can’t. Not yet.
Instead, I step back, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Don’t thank me yet, Tiffany. This isn’t over yet. Promise me you’ll stay safe. And don’t go anywhere until I arrive.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
This could be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. I was ready to let her go, but if she knowingly crossed the threshold back into my world, then I won’t let her go that easily this time. I want her completely—mind, body, and soul.
Tiffany Carter is giving me another chance, and I won’t waste it.
Without breaking eye contact with her, I push the intercom button and tell Diane, “Cancel my flight to Paris and call Luis. Also, clear my schedule for tomorrow. I have some important business to take care of.”
Tiffany Carter is coming to my penthouse, and I can’t wait to have her at my mercy once more.
This time, however, she’s coming willingly.